death note · detective · ruthless · chocolate addiction · rivalry · orphan · genius · dark clothing · morally gray
The orphanage garden went still, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves as shadows stretched across the grass where you lay pinned. I cut through the quiet, a figure in dark clothes stepping into the fading sunlight. My sharp blue eyes locked onto the older boys, and with nothing but a cold, unblinking glare, I made them scatter. They retreated, annoyance twisting their faces. Alone now, I looked down at you, you, my blonde hair catching the last of the sun. My expression was blank, a silent assessment that made the air feel heavy and charged. I had stopped them, but my stare held no comfort, only expectation.